


Eulogy

by slanciante



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slanciante/pseuds/slanciante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Mycroft doesn't know?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eulogy

**Author's Note:**

> "It would take Sherlock Holmes himself to fool me"

Doctor Watson,

The late Sherlock Holmes identified as a ‘high-functioning sociopath.” I don’t know what moniker he bestowed upon me, except for perhaps “meddlesome git.” I’d hoped one day he’d realize I was doing what I could to be a brother to him. He was always angry to have his intelligence surpassed. I would have changed that if I could. I know it meant more to him. But isn’t that the curse of all younger siblings? To try to match the elder? To show that they’re not second best in anything but age?

If my younger brother had only known how much I envied him. Not for anything he’d done, but for who he was. There’s a curse to being the smarter one, not that he’d ever believe it. I envied him the ability to be his irascible, irritating self, to have the freedom to whisk about in that ridiculous coat of his, to be so alive. Yes, there were times when he sunk to the very depths of human existence, but even his highs and lows seemed preferable to my immutable plateau.

The Virgin and the Ice-man, they called us. Better to be untouched (as a temporary condition) than to be forever untouchable.

I must say that at first, I thought he had something up his sleeve, one last remarkable feat of humanity and intelligence from my younger sibling. I confirmed the identity of the body in the mortuary, I knew if he had faked his own death it was important that I not let my supposition of his farce be known. I anticipated him to contact me within several days. I would have helped him hide, assisted in his emigration, provided spies all over the world to track down Moriarty’s men.

I have heard nothing from him.

And so, after three months, it is inevitable for me to accept that Sherlock Holmes is in fact, dead. I have put money into his accounts, had my people in his most-traveled countries (France, the Czech Republic, India) on the lookout for him, diverted as many resources as possible in the search for him. The money remains untouched, report after report comes back in the negative. The possibility that he had survived and yet, that I have not found him becomes less and less likely as time progresses.

At some point in a eulogy, a person might share a heartwarming anecdote of the deceased’s youth, and how they’ll remain forever young in their memories. I regret to say I have no such memories of my brother. We did not play together, at least not in sense that people usually understand. I was seven years his senior, by the time he gained enough intelligence to be thought of as pleasant company, he had decided that I was his arch-enemy, his competition. And I’m ashamed to say I did put him in his place without much care to his feelings. He claimed he doesn’t have them, but both you and I know that’s not quite true.

In closing, Doctor Watson, I hope this internet correspondence does not further grieve you. Although I know you, like my late brother, are loathe to accept my input and resources (indeed, that you often viewed them as an annoyance) It is nevertheless my duty to offer them to you freely. Whatever you may need, you have only to ask. Consider it a repayment for doing what I couldn’t, for being someone Sherlock Holmes considered a loyal and valuable friend. In his partnership with you, I do believe he finally surpassed me as the better brother.

-Mycroft Holmes

Postscript - You shouldn’t feel any obligation to reply, after all, without my brother to connect us we are quite strangers. Still, if you should ever want some quiet company, the doors of the Diogenes club are open to you. I am there quite often, having more free time than usual these days. -MH


End file.
